


Luck

by CupCakezys



Series: We Are Not Monsters [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Merlin (Merlin), They're ALMOST There I Swear, Werewolf Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 16:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19429945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupCakezys/pseuds/CupCakezys
Summary: “Well.” Merlin said nervously. “Our luck had to run out sometime.”Arthur growled. “I blame you. I had perfect luck before you came along.”Merlin gasped, feigning offence. “I’ll have you know Will and I were the luckiest kids in Ealdor. No way this is my fault.”Arthur grinned, and there were a few too many sharp teeth for Merlin’s liking. “You know, I’m starting to think this Will doesn’t exist. Did you make up a pretend best friend to make me jealous Merlin?”





	Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Another one, this time much longer than the last! It's also VERY heavily based on [Moonlit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15270555) by TheDragon, so if you like this in any way, definitely go check their fic out.

Merlin gasped, because, well, he _hadn’t_ made Will up, but he’d certainly only brought him up in an attempt to make Arthur jealous, to see if he _would_ get jealous. “You’re really questioning my childhood best friend while we’re being held hostage by bandits _on the night of the full moon_?”

Merlin regretted it almost instantly. Really, he’d been trying to keep his mind off of that little fact, and what it meant for them, for _Arthur_. Curse his inability to keep his mouth shut.

“My father will have sent the knights out by now, if that bandit got to the castle with their demands. They’ll be here soon.” Arthur said, though to Merlin it lacked his usual bullheaded conviction.

“Right.” He said anyway, because the setting sun was stressing Arthur out enough, and admitting that no rescue could come soon enough to save them wasn’t going to help either of them. “Well, when they do, perhaps we can visit Ealdor. Then I can prove to you Will exists, and I’ll get to visit my mother. Win win.”

Arthur shook his head at Merlin’s grin, but his lips twitched and Merlin found victory in that. “Alright, fine, when we get out of this we can visit your village.”

And goddess, wasn’t that a scary thought. Will and Arthur together was a disaster waiting to happen. They’d either leave the village in ruins after one too many a prank gone wrong or tear each other’s throats out.

Merlin shuddered as Arthur’s wolf form popped into his head, teeth bared and aimed right at Will.

Perhaps it was best not to think about tearing peoples throats out.

“Ealdor’s outside of Camelot’s boarders though.” Merlin said, frowning slightly. “It’s in Essetir.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “So?”

“Well, pardon me _sire_ , but I thought Cenred didn’t like you and your father very much?”

“Obviously I’d wear a disguise. It won’t matter if I visit, so long as he doesn’t know I was there.” Arthur rolled his eyes again, but Merlin could see the tension in his shoulders. The sun had set.

Merlin nodded. The conversation drifted away, and Merlin turned his attention to the shackles around his wrists. Damned cold iron. He could feel his magic deep within him, buried and thrashing against the restraints. He’d been trying for hours to reach it, to channel it so he could blast the chains away. Each try had just left him panting and frustrated.

Arthur, strangely, hadn’t been fighting his restraints much. In the beginning, when they’d first woken up after the ambush and found themselves bound, Arthur had raised hell and tried everything to get the shackles off. He’d been hit for that, a solid punch to the gut, and Merlin had screamed murder at them when they’d gone in for a kick. He’d received a split lip in return, but at least they’d both been left alone after that.

Now, though, Arthur was curled up on himself tightly and facing away from Merlin and the door to the cell they’d been thrown in under an old, forgotten building. It had looked like a small castle to Merlin, but for all he knew it was just an old watch tower. Arthur hadn’t offered any hints, and they’d had more important things to think about. Like getting _out_ of wherever the hell they were.

“Do you really think a disguise will work? I mean, there’s an awful lot of spoilt prat to hide.” Merlin grinned, trying to keep up the banter. Trying to keep things _normal._

Arthur snorted, and looked at him with raised eyebrows as he all but yelled, all spoilt prince. “I’ll have you know, _Mer_ lin-”

Their cell door clanged loudly, something hitting against the metal. “Shut up in there! Before I make you.”

Merlin stuck his tongue out at the door, knowing the bandit couldn’t see him but feeling better anyway. He turned a cheeky smile to Arthur, only for it to immediately fall into a frown of concern. Arthur was curled up on himself, pale and sweating. The cell had a single window, more a crack in the wall than anything. A sliver of moonlight stopped just shy of Merlin’s feet.

“Arthur?” He whispered.

Arthur growled, a distinctly non-human sound that made the hairs on the back of Merlin’s neck stand up. “Don’t. Don’t speak. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Just- please.”

“Alright.” Merlin said, throat dry. “It’s going to be okay Arthur.” Distantly, somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard the bandit that was guarding them walk away. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

Arthur shook his head, little whines escaping his mouth. “I can’t- I can’t control it Merlin, please, just don’t make a _sound-_ “

Whatever else Arthur was going to say was lost to a low growl. Merlin’s heart pounded loud in his chest as he scooted back against the wall, eyes glued to Arthur as he hunched over further on the ground and began to change.

In the three months since Merlin had started joining Arthur in the forest every full moon, not once had he actually seen the change. He was always up the tree – at Arthur’s insistence – and Arthur went to the back of the cave to change before disappearing into the forest until morning. Merlin hadn’t asked him why. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see the change.

Now, however, he couldn’t _not_ see. For all the stories he had been told, none compared to actually _seeing_ the change with his own eyes.

Arthur shook like it was winter and he was naked in the snow. Small whimpers and pained grunts made Merlin want to run to him, to stop whatever was hurting him even though he knew it was impossible, no matter how strong his magic was.

His heart skipped a beat when claws and fangs sprung out of Arthur’s skin, as sharp as any sword he’d ever seen. He started growing, muscles straining as golden fur covered him from head to toe. In an age and a blink of the eye the rest of the transformation was complete, and Merlin was left staring terrified at a huge, golden wolf.

He gulped.

A huge golden wolf that had apparently been much too strong for his chains. The shackles previously around Arthur’s wrists were a broken mess on the floor.

That was not good.

He tried to keep as quiet as possible, honestly, he did. He didn’t move. He didn’t make a sound, besides ragged, quiet breathing, which he thought was acceptable considering the pure _panic_ rippling through him. If Arthur thought he could stop that then he was an absolute _prat_.

It didn’t seem to matter in the end.

The wolf shook himself, seemingly getting his bearings. Distantly, somewhere in his mind that wasn’t consumed by panic, he wondered how strange it must be, to go from human to wolf, wolf to human. Perhaps he’d ask Arthur later, if they both survived this and Arthur remembered the change.

Glowing blue eyes locked onto his and Merlin gasped.

The wolf started stalking towards him and Merlin scrambled back against the wall. Maybe he should call out. The guard couldn’t have gone too far, and maybe he’d be able to restrain Arthur before he did anything. Of course, they would be just as likely to kill Arthur on sight, and that was something Merlin couldn’t allow. He swallowed his screams down and closed his eyes tight, head bowed.

There was silence. The wolf’s paws were silent on the stone floor, but Merlin knew he was getting closer. He waited.

The wolf whined, right in front of him, and Merlin jerked back so hard he hit his head on the wall. The wolf whined again, and Merlin opened his eyes again.

A wet nose nudged at his cheek, and then the wolf licked him and dropped down to lay on top of his legs.

Merlin stared in amazement as the wolf started nudging his head against his chest, and hesitantly he brought a hand down to pet him between the ears. He leaned into the touch, and Merlin marvelled at how soft his fur was.

“Arthur?” He whispered.

Arthur yipped, a sound Merlin hadn’t even known werewolves could make. Merlin laughed under his breath, relieved and still just a little bit terrified. He was mortified to find tears in his eyes, and he pressed his face against Arthur’s fur in a desperate attempt to hide them from his friend. He prayed to the goddess that Arthur was telling the truth when he said he didn’t remember anything from his time as a wolf. No doubt he’d tease Merlin for weeks on end if he ever found out about this.

Arthur moved in his grip, wiggling backwards, and Merlin let him go in favour of quickly wiping at his eyes. The chains around his wrists clanged as he did, and Arthur glared at them, teeth bared. Merlin glared at them too.

Arthur paced in front of him for a moment, three steps left and then three steps right, before he grabbed the chain on his left arm with his teeth.

“Arthur.” Merlin gasped. “Arthur, what are you doing?”

Arthur, obviously, didn’t respond. He tugged at the chain, his muscles straining, and before long Merlin heard a pop just above his head. He looked up only to see the part where his shackle connected to the wall slowly inching out, until finally it gave and fell to the floor. Arthur yelped and scrambled back a bit, regaining his balance. He dropped the chain in his mouth and looked to Merlin with a wolfish grin on his face. Merlin couldn’t stop a short bark of laughter. The look of pride was completely out of place on a wolfs face, and was entirely Arthur.

“Yes, well done. Think you can get the other one?” He shook his right wrist, the chain clinking against the floor.

Arthur growled and darted forward, biting down on the chain hard. He was pulling for hardly a few seconds before the chain snapped in two, a rusted chain link giving up under the pressure. Arthur looked even _more_ proud after that one. Merlin hesitantly gave him a scratch between the ears as reward, and grinned when Arthur leaned into the touch.

“Thank you.” He stood and gathered up the chains still attached to him, holding them carefully so they made as little noise as possible. “Now to find a way out of this cell.”

Arthur, it seemed, had already thought of that. Before Merlin could say otherwise, he was running full sprint at the door. Merlin cried out as Arthur hit the door, a loud thump resounding around the room. Arthur shook himself, growled at the still-locked door, and ran back to the other side of the cell.

“What the hell Arthur?” Merlin yelled, trying to get between him and the door. “Don’t do that! You’ll break your shoulder!”

Arthur ignored him and ran for the door again. Merlin was forced the fling himself out of the way or face getting bowled over. He fell on his ass, chains spilling from his arms as he went. A second later there was the thump and screech as the door gave way.

Merlin scrambled to his feet, gathered the chains back in his arms, and marched over the where Arthur was shaking himself again. He had that same wolfish grin on his face as before, but Merlin was fuming.

“Are you insane!” He hissed, ignoring Arthur’s huff as he checked him over. “You could have seriously hurt yourself! God, you’re such a _prat_ sometimes. What if you dislocated your shoulder? Or broke it? Do you have any idea how _impossible_ it would be for me to carry you out of here?”

Arthur whined and butted his head against him, tail between his legs. Merlin buried his hands in Arthur’s fur, careful not to let the chains drop.

“Cabbage head.” He whispered. “Don’t do that again.”

Arthur huffed and butted his head against his shoulder.

“What the-“

Merlin startled at the voice. He spun around towards it, looking out through the busted door of the cell. A man, presumably the one that had been guarding them, stood with a flagon of ale in hand and his mouth practically on the floor in shock. Merlin gulped and backed up when he went for his sword, the guard’s confusion turning to fear as Arthur growled at him.

At the sharp scrape of the sword being drawn Arthur went from crouching protectively in front of Merlin to leaping at the bandit with teeth bared. The man didn’t stand a chance. He’d just barely managed to get his sword out of its scabbard before Arthur was upon him. Merlin tore his gaze away when Arthur locked his jaws around the man’s throat, and tried to ignore his dying gurgles as he fell to the floor.

There was the jangle of keys, and Merlin shot a quick glance at the sound.

Arthur had a ring of keys in his mouth. Blood dripped from his muzzle, and Merlin didn’t consider himself squeamish, but he very deliberately didn’t look at the corpse on the floor. He took the keys from Arthur with a small thank you, dropping his chains on the floor. He went through three keys before he found the right one.

The instant both shackles were off his magic roared within him. He gasped and clutched at his chest, letting the magic flow through him for what felt like the first time in _years_. He shuddered and shook under the force of it.

He came back to himself slowly, glowing blue eyes watching him in concern. Arthur’s tail twitched as well, his whole body tense. Merlin’s hand shook as he rested it on Arthur’s back, half in reassurance and half because he wasn’t sure his legs could hold him up for much longer.

“We need to get out of here.” He whispered.

Arthur huffed his agreement.

They crept through the winding halls of the abandoned building, Merlin’s magic showing him the way to freedom, while Arthur’s nose and ears warned them of approaching bandits. Each time he sensed someone close he would crowd Merlin against the closest nook in the wall, teeth bared and body blocking Merlin from sight. Merlin threw a shield up each time, magic pulsing and eager to be used after being locked away.

No one else noticed them. Between Arthur’s uncanny ability to find hiding spots and Merlin’s magic distracting anyone that got too close, the bandits had no chance. Before long they’d found a hole in a crumbling outside wall big enough for them both to fit through. Merlin thanked the goddess for their good luck as he slipped through the crack.

Arthur was staring down the hallway, ears forward and alert, so Merlin reached a hand back in to poke him in the side.

“Come on Arthur.” He hissed. “We have to go.”

Arthur shook his head, all fiercely determined prince, and Merlin wondered why people said werewolves lost all sense of self when they changed. This wolf was Arthur through and through. And since he knew his prince so well, he knew exactly why Arthur didn’t want to leave just yet.

“We can come back with a whole bunch of knights tomorrow.” The bandits would probably be long gone by then, and Arthur knew Merlin knew that. He barely gave Merlin an annoyed glance as he stepped forward. “Arthur! This is a bad idea!”

Arthur, of course, ignored him.

Merlin grumbled insults under his breath as he climbed back into the ruined building. Arthur was sneaking away, back down the corridor they’d just come from. Merlin grumbled and went after him.

He hadn’t gotten two steps before Arthur turned back around and growled at him. He walked back to Merlin, pushing and shoving him back towards the hole. Merlin dug in his heels and crossed his arms, refusing to move. Arthur growled, a low rumble in his chest without any teeth. Merlin refused to be cowed.

“I’m not leaving you alone to be killed by bandits.” He hissed angrily. “If you’re serious about this, then I’m coming with you.”

Arthur whined and butted him towards the hole again. Merlin dodged him and stepped back down the hallway.

“I’m meant to protect _you_ Arthur.” Merlin insisted, then pointed to himself. “I can hold my own. Powerful warlock, remember?”

Arthur still looked unhappy, but Merlin also knew he was determined to get rid of the bandits before they could turn into a bigger threat. Merlin threw his hands up.

“Look, we have a much better chance at getting rid of them if we work together. What happens if you get surrounded? Or, goddess forbid, any of them have any silver? If I’m out there waiting for you, how am I supposed to protect you?”

Arthur huffed and growled. His tail swished angrily, and Merlin figured he got the gist of what Arthur was trying to tell him.

“We can protect each other this way.” He said. “Now come on. I’d rather this be done and over with so we can get somewhere safe before the sun rises.”

Arthur huffed and quickly forced his way past Merlin, putting himself in the lead. Merlin shook his head and fell back a little, keeping his magic at the ready.

It took them five minutes before they came across anyone. When they did, it – naturally – was the leader of the bandits that had ambushed them earlier that day. Merlin silently cursed their bad luck as Arthur bared his teeth and began creeping up on him. Merlin kept his distance, hand raised in case he needed to do any magic.

Arthur pounced.

The bandit cried out as he fell to the floor, Arthur’s weight on his back too much for him to handle. He started wiggling, trying to get to his sword as he yelled and generally made far too much noise for Merlin’s liking.

He hurried forward, hand still raised as he grabbed the bandit’s sword before he could draw it. He pressed it to the bandit’s neck and Arthur growled low in his ear. He immediately went still.

“How many of you are there?” Merlin asked, pressing the blade against the man’s skin.

The bandit turned his head a fraction so he could glare at Merlin, though he could tell the man was terrified. Merlin didn’t blame him. He’d be terrified too if a giant wolf was growling in his ear.

“How did you manage to get out?” The bandit spat. “Those chains were the strongest we’ve ever had. Made ‘em especially for the prince, we did.”

Arthur growled in the bandit’s ear, causing the man to whimper slightly.

“I think you underestimated just how strong my prince is.” Merlin hissed as he pressed the blade hard enough to draw blood. “Now, answer my question. How many of you are there?”

The bandit spat at the ground near his feet. “Go to hell.”

Arthur snapped, locking his jaws around the man’s throat, careful to avoid Merlin’s newly acquired sword. The bandit yelled as Arthur tightened his hold, not yet enough to break skin, but enough that the pressure was there. Merlin swallowed and forced his voice to work.

“Answer the question. Now.”

“Alright, Alright!” The bandit cried, trying not to move on Arthur’s hold. “There’s twelve of us, including me and your guard.”

If he was being truthful, then that meant there were only ten left. “And our packs? Where are you keeping them?”

“We went through it all, looking for valuables. We didn’t find nuthin’ worth keeping, so I threw it all outside, in the old stables.”

Merlin nodded. “Alright.”

“I told you what you want, now please, call it off.” The man whimpered.

Arthur growled, but Merlin really didn’t want to see him rip another man’s throat out. There were cleaner ways to kill. “Let him go Arthur. Please.”

Arthur growled again, tail flickering, but he did as Merlin asked. The man gasped, hands touching his throat as he turned and backed away. He looked between Merlin and Arthur, surprise and fear in his eyes.

“That’s- that’s the prince? He’s a _werewolf_?” He spluttered, and while he said werewolf Merlin knew what he really meant was _monster._

“Yes.” Merlin said, because dead men tell no tales, so telling him would hurt no one. “And you’re still more of a monster than he’ll ever be.”

Merlin struck forward, clumsy but sure, and let the sword sink into the man’s heart. The bandit gasped for a moment, hands clutching his chest as Merlin pulled the sword free, its blade stained crimson. It took only a few more moments for the bandit to slip back, chest still and eyes dead.

Merlin stumbled back, a brief wave of horror taking over him at how easy it had been to end another man’s life. Arthur whined beside him, pushing up against his chest and blocking his view of the body. Merlin gripped his fur tightly in one hand, pulling himself back together quickly.

“I’m alright.” He said. “This isn’t the first time I’ve killed.”

Arthur looked at him, glowing blue eyes full of disbelief, and Merlin smiled weakly. “Hey, keeping your stubborn ass alive is a full time job. Do you know how many people try to kill you and your father on a weekly basis?”

Arthur shook his head and they moved forward like that, Merlin with a sword in one had and a fist of Arthur’s fur in the other. They made their way through the building slowly, coming across bandits every now and then and taking care of them as quickly and quietly as they could. They’d taken care of another five when they came across the remaining bandits, all of them sitting around a fire in what looked like an old banquet room.

They were spotted almost immediately, and all it took was one cry from a bandit before they were effectively surrounded. Arthur hadn’t dared charge them and leave Merlin vulnerable, and Merlin was too busy trying to think of what spells he could use to notice the bandits circling around him until it was too late.

“What do we have here?”

“An escaped prisoner and his pet mutt?”

“How did you manage to get out boy?”

“Where’s the prince, servant?”

Merlin stayed silent and Arthur growled and snarled, swiping at anyone that got too close. Merlin’s magic boiled under his skin, ready and waiting. Merlin just had to find the perfect moment.

The perfect moment, it seemed, came when one of the bandits – the youngest, by the looks of him, barely a man at all – took a closer look at Arthur.

“Hey, uh, does anyone else think that dog looks weird?”

The bandits all quieted, looking at Arthur as if they were only just realising yes, Arthur did look quite a bit different from your average dog. Merlin watched them all carefully, waiting.

“It is a bit big.” One muttered.

“It almost looks like…” Another mumbled, a frown on his face even as he kept his sword held up. His eyes went wide. “A werewolf.”

The bandits all shifted, wary fear on their faces. One bandit, the one closest to Merlin, dropped his sword slightly. Merlin struck out with his magic instantly.

“ _Ástríce_!”

The bandit went flying, landing with a sickening crack against the far wall, and Arthur pounced on a distracted bandit. Merlin spared him a single glance before he had to concentrate on the bandit swinging a sword at his head. He yelped and ducked, bringing his own sword up in a clumsy block. The bandit – the young one – was clearly inexperienced, but Merlin was, as Arthur so often reminded him, terrible with a sword. His opponent may be inexperienced, but Merlin was too clumsy to hold his own for long.

Desperately, he dodged another swipe of the sword and brought his hand up. “ _Hætende_!”

The bandit yelped and dropped his sword in an instant, looking at it in betrayed confusion. Merlin took the opportunity and flung his sword forward, deep into the boys’ belly. He gasped and clutched at his stomach, looking at Merlin with white faced disbelief that soon dissolved into pain.

“I’m sorry.” Merlin whispered as he pulled the sword out.

The boy fell to the floor and went still. Merlin spun around, not giving himself a moment to think, not daring to, because the sounds of battle had died out in the seconds he’d been occupied with the boy and Arthur could be hurt.

He wasn’t, thankfully, but blood dripped from his muzzle onto the floor below in a gruesome display.

Two corpses lay at his feet, their throats torn out. Merlin shuddered. That was something he’d be happy to never see again.

The final bandit took one look at them and turned to run. Arthur snarled and ran after him, snapping his teeth as he went. The bandit didn’t even make it to the door. Merlin looked away as he screamed.

Merlin dropped the sword in his hand. There was a splatter of blood on his hand, warm and bright against his pale skin. He bent down and wiped his hand on the ground, doing his best to get rid of it before it could stain his clothes. They were too difficult for him to get out, especially when he only had two tunics to use.

Arthur whined, right in his ear, and Merlin jumped.

“Arthur.” He sighed and ran a hand along Arthur’s back, mindful of the blood mattering his fur. “Are you hurt?” He shook his head, and Merlin smiled faintly. “Good, that’s good.”

He stood slowly, Arthur patiently waiting for him. He spotted a broken door, and beyond that, the night sky. He stepped forward and Arthur cocked his head in question.

“You satisfied now?” Arthur yipped and dipped his head in a nod. “Then let’s get out of here.”

Arthur helped him shove the broken door out of the way. Merlin breathed in the clean night air, thankful to escape the stench of death behind them. Arthur seemed to agree as he bound out into the forest surrounding the building. Merlin shook his head and turned to a barely standing stable. He found their bags abandoned on the ground, and a quick check revealed everything was still inside, bar the food Merlin had packed for them. Merlin nodded, satisfied, and shouldered both packs.

A howl split the air, close and familiar, and Merlin quickly made his way into the forest.

Arthur greeted him in moments, muzzle clean and dripping water. He yipped and sniffed at Merlin, checking for injuries, and Merlin laughed as he tried to push him away.

“Stop it!” He laughed, Arthur’s fur tickling his nose. “Arthur, I mean it! Leave my neck alone, there’s nothing interesting there!”

Arthur huffed, as if in disagreement, but moved away.

“Now then.” Merlin said. “Camelot can’t be too far away. Let’s go.”

The only problem was he had no idea which way Camelot was. He hesitated a moment, then picked a random direction and started walking. Arthur trailed behind him in silence for a few minutes. It was only when Merlin jumped over a small stream that Arthur sat down and stared at him, a wolfish grin on his face.

“What?” Merlin asked, hands on his hips. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

Arthur made what Merlin thought sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Merlin, of course, took great insult to that and crossed his arms, pouting. Arthur calmed down and huffed, jumping the stream easily and brushing against Merlin’s side.

“You know, I was definitely right when I said you hadn’t changed. You’re still an absolute prat.”

Arthur laughed again. He grabbed Merlin’s sleeve carefully between his teeth and pulled him in the opposite direction he had been going. It didn’t take Merlin long to figure out why Arthur had been laughing at him.

“You’re the biggest dollophead to have ever existed, you know that?”

Arthur let him go, grinned, and took off running ahead of him. Merlin laughed, watching Arthur run around as he walked. Clearly their escape and ensuing fight hadn’t drained his energy at all. He ran and pounced on anything that moved, from a falling leaf to a clump of grass blowing in the wind. To Merlin he looked nothing like the stories of terrifying werewolves he had grown up with. Arthur looked more like an overexcited puppy than a blood-thirsty monster.

It took them hours to finally reach somewhere that Merlin recognized. Arthur had long since stopped playing, content to walk beside Merlin and, more often than not, support Merlin’s weight as he fought off exhaustion. When Merlin finally looked up and recognized the cave they often went to on the night of the full moon, he could have cried.

Instead, he forced himself to gather a few sticks and set them roughly in a pile on the cave floor. He waved a hand as he dumped the packs on the ground, and the sticks gathered into a neat pile and set themselves alight. Merlin fell to his knees, not even bothering to get out his blanket. He was just too tired.

Arthur whined and nuzzled at his back, almost pushing him into the fire. Merlin clumsily swatted at him.

“Go ‘way Art’ur.” He moaned, eyes screwed shut.

Arthur whined again, then huffed, and suddenly there was fur in his mouth and warmth along his back. Merlin spluttered and forced his eyes open. Arthur had somehow managed to wedge his front paws under Merlin’s head, while the rest of his body covered Merlin’s back like a blanket. He stared for a moment, glowing blue eyes staring back at him, then gave in and let his head fall. If Arthur wanted to be his own personal pillow, whatever. Merlin was too tired to try and make up a complaint.

Something he immediately regretted when he woke the next morning.

Alright, so he didn’t immediately regret it. It was hard to regret waking up in Arthur’s arms. One arm was under his head, acting as a pillow, just like his paw had done when Merlin fell asleep. The other was curled tightly around his stomach, pulling Merlin back against Arthur’s body.

Arthur’s very _naked_ body.

Merlin squeaked and bolted upright in an instant. He could feel his face flaming beet-red as he deliberately turned his back on the stirring prince behind him. He had a few moments of pure embarrassment as he remembered the feel of Arthur pressed up against him, and his body reacted in the most traitorous of ways. He busied himself with looking through Arthur’s pack, the one with his spare pair of clothes.

“Merlin?” Arthur mumbled, voice heavy with sleep.

“One moment sire.” Merlin called, determinedly not risking a glance. “Just let me-“

Merlin cut himself off with a yell as Arthur barreled into his side. He dropped the pack he was holding and scrambled, almost falling if it weren’t for the strong pair of arms wrapped around his back. Arthur had his head buried in his shoulder, seemingly just breathing. Merlin carefully brought his own arms up, one wrapping around Arthur’s back as the other wound it’s way through his hair.

“Arthur?” He asked after a moment, soft and hesitant.

“I thought I was going to kill you.” Arthur said roughly, his arms squeezing him tightly for a second. “I was so scared.”

“Hey, I’m fine.” Merlin hugged Arthur closer, made sure to rub soothing little circles on his back. “You didn’t hurt me, didn’t even come close. In fact, you did exactly the opposite.”

Arthur pulled away, eyes wide and maybe glistening with tears that neither of them acknowledged. “What?”

Merlin snorted, letting his hand fall from Arthur’s frankly ridiculously soft hair to his arm as he pushed him back a little. “Yes, and you were quite the noble, stupidly stubborn prat as a wolf as well, I’ll have you know.” Arthur looked so confused. Merlin relented his teasing with a smile. “I’ll explain it all, but first I think you should get some clothes on.”

Arthur frowned, looked down at himself, and blushed bright red and beautiful. “Right. Yes, I’ll just- do that.”

Merlin shuffled back, letting Arthur dig for his clothes as he coaxed the fire back to life with a muttered word. He sat down as Arthur dressed, focusing on the fire and nothing else. Arthur settled next to him only a few moments later, close but not quite touching. Merlin found himself aching to close the gap and take Arthur’s hand, or rest his head on his shoulder.

Instead, he started talking.


End file.
